


deal your cards

by orphan_account



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:58:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hankyung has a plan. Also, he's drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	deal your cards

“See,” Hankyung slurs at the bartender, “I have this plan. Well,” he amends, “I had this plan.” he reaches for his glass and blinks, confused, as he finds it empty.

“Look mister,” the bartender says, “I’ll call you a cab. Where do you live?” Hankyung turns the glass upside down and blinks as a few drops splash on the scratched varnish.

“How’d that happen?” he asks stupidly. The bartender rolls his eyes and reaches for a cell phone.

 

The cab drops him off at the curb and Hankyung lurches out, singing a Chinese drinking song. He’s halfway up the steps when the driver catches up to him, snapping angrily about fare. Hankyung staggers back down to lean on the hood while he digs through his jacket. When he finally manages to fish out his billfold it slips from his beer-numbed fingers and tumbles down into the sewer drain.

“Oops,” he says, and laughs.

 

“You think this is funny now,” says Heechul through his fake smile as he hands a few bills to the cab driver and takes Hankyung’s weight off the body of the car so it can drive off into the night, “but tomorrow you will pay like you would not believe.” Hankyung gives him a dopey smile and rests his nose on Heechul’s neck.

“Smell good,” he slurs happily, and Heechul rolls his eyes to the heavens before tugging him towards the lobby doors. “You’re warm,” Hankyung hums, nuzzling soft skin and wrinkling his forehead as Heechul’s hair pokes his eyelids.

“Shut the fuck up,” Heechul pants, trying to wrestle them through the door without dropping Hankyung on the hard concrete, “I hate you so much.” He finally gives up on achieving both objectives and hauls the door open, propelling Hankyung hard through the threshold with a two handed shove and walking over his outstretched body.

“Ow.” says Hankyung sadly. “I would never do that to you.” Heechul drags his hair out of his eyes and looks down at Hankyung, face planted into the cheap carpeting, one hand in a fake potted plant. Hankyung lifts his head weakly up and smiles, face completely unguarded, open affection. His eyes cross adorably.

Heechul kicks him in the ribs. Gently.

 

When they finally stagger through their front door Heechul is sweating profusely and swearing low and constant under his breath. Hankyung is draped over his back, face against Heechul’s shoulder, walking in tandem and humming their greatest hits. Two steps into the apartment and Hankyung pauses, burps, yawns, and decides.

“Sleep time now,” he says, and goes limp. Heechul yelps and staggers, but Hankyung has significantly more mass and body muscle, and he goes down like the Titanic, slow but extremely painful, with a passenger aboard. He ends up stomach down on several pairs of carelessly tossed aside shoes, limbs akimbo and Hankyung heavy on his back.

“I can’t breathe, you dumb fuck,” he hisses, and wriggles around furiously until Hankyung slides off to the side. Before he can scramble to his feet and kick stupid drunk Hankyung in his stupid Chinese face, Hankyung wraps both arms and legs around him and pulls him in. Heechul can feel dancer muscles flex around him.

“Crap,” he sighs.

 

Two hours later and Heechul is resigned to his fate. He could yell and scream and wake everyone up but the odds are high they would only take pictures and totter off back to their warm beds. There’s a hoodie in reach he could use as a pillow but he’s pretty sure he can smell Eunhyuk from where’s he’s lying so he tries to settle back into Hankyung. His movement stirs his captor.

“I had a plan,” Hankyung mumbles, “a really good one.” His grip loosens a little, and Heechul sees a possible way out.

“Yeah?” he murmurs encouragingly, “About what?” Hankyung snuffles behind him. His fingers have slipped beneath Heechul’s shirt, hiked up from his fruitless struggles, and are stroking gently. His breath is warm on the back of Heechul’s neck and his arms are familiar. Heechul can feel his eyelids getting heavy of their own volition.

“About you,” Hankyung yawns, “it was multistep. With bullet points.” Heechul smiles.

“You’re so fucking drunk,” he says fondly, “you won’t remember any of this in the morning.” Hankyung’s hand dips lower. Heechul’s snap open and he is suddenly Very Awake.

“Excuse me,” he says, “what the hell are you doing down there?” Hankyung pauses immediately, and when he speaks he sounds even more confused than usual.

“Aren’t we having sex now?” he asks stupidly, “I confessed already.” Heechul jerks his heel back sharply and feels validated when he hits flesh. Hankyung jerks in pain.

“Go to sleep,” Heechul snaps, “I’ll kill you in the morning.” He closes his own eyes and wills for his heart to calm and for sleep to come.

“Fucking Ivy,” mutters Hankyung, and passes out.


End file.
